ATF: I Love my Job
by retirw
Summary: A day in the life.  Vin's just having one of those days.


The boys aren't mine. sigh They never will be. sighsigh I do think they like me better though. Even if I get them hurt and stuff they do get out of that stuffy old cardboard box.

As always in my stories //backslashes indicate projected thoughts-telepathy or it's close cousin// _Italics are thoughts some best not revealed in public._

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Team 7 ATF Office

Federal Building

Denver, Colorado

Vin sat slumped at his desk. Sympathetic looks were sent his way by the other members of team 7 although they were all giving him a wide berth. Chris wasn't exactly hovering, but he had found it necessary to go to the break room three times in the thirty minutes Tanner had been back in the office. Today was not a good day for their intrepid sharpshooter. Josiah had muttered something about Murphy's law and Murphy working overtime during their lunch break and it was now 4:00.

Larabee disappeared into the break room once more, returning with a steaming cup of coffee and a one pound bar of Hershey's chocolate. "Don't expect me to make 'Tanner coffee' again," Chris warned, setting the items on Vin's desk and stepping back.

"Thanks, Chris." Vin sighed deeply and looked up, too exhausted to even protest the insult to his coffee.

Larabee flinched at the misery clearly revealed in the sapphire gaze.

"Those bruises are really coming out," Chris muttered, taking in the black eye and bruised cheek.

"Sometimes I think about crawlin' off inta them mountains and jist stayin' there," Vin announced hoarsely.

Heads bowed as the others considered Vin's day and the ramifications if Tanner actually quit.

Nathan silently slipped out of the office.

7777777THAT MORNING7777777

5:00 am, Vin cursed softly as he woke to the windows of his bedroom frosted over . . . on the inside. _Looks like the heat's still out. Gettin' soft in your old age. Lettin' a little cold git to yah this way. Hell if I'm gonna shower in icy water. Iffen tha boiler's down then they ain't no hot water neither. Grab me a shower at work. _Vin pulled his clothes under the heavy blankets and dressed without climbing out of bed.

"Damn!" Tanner huffed as he flipped the light switch before noticing the unnatural silence. No tick of the clock and the refrigerator sat silent in its corner. "Shit, no electric." _Rekin ever'body in the building was trying to use electric heaters and sech last night. _Vin sighed deeply. _Knowed I shouldn't have left mah old peculator in mah campin' gear out at Chris'. Just have ta stop and git me some coffee on mah way in. Stop at that fancy shop over on Columbine that Ez took me to. Grab some of them fancy donuts fer tha gang. _Vin's step was a bit lighter as he made his way out of the apartment building.

Tanner shivered in the canvas topped jeep as he putted down the street. Hitting his brakes, Vin cursed softly as two muscle cars roared by, running the light. _Damn. Almost had a Tanner pancake. _Vin hurriedly wrote down the two license plate numbers. _I can't gittcha, but sure as hell I kin have the locals keepin' an eye out. Gonna kill somebody acting that way. _

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Holey, Holey, Holey Donut Shoppe

1239 Columbine St.

Denver, Colorado

Vin arrived safely at the swanky pastry/coffee shop. Parking out front, he entered the store. Politely, he waited for service only to be ignored by the counter girl as she waited on two other customers. She kept darting nervous looks in Tanner's direction. _Rekin I ain't dressed proper fer this place. _Vin grinned to himself wryly. _Rekin she figures I'm out ta rob her er such._

"This is a hold up!" a voice yelled from behind Tanner.

"Yah got ta be kiddin'. It's a freakin' donut shop," Tanner blurted.

"Shut up, street trash. Empty the till. And give me a dozen cream cheese turnovers," the voice barked.

Vin turned slowly around to see a rotund man of average height holding a pistol clinched between white knuckled fists. Dressed in an expensive three piece suit, the robber waved the pistol dangerously.

_Wonder iffen he's ever even held a gun 'fore now? Need to get him outta here for he starts in ta shootin'. _"Calm down, mister. What do yah want?" Vin unobtrusively began to inch his way between the gunman and the customers and staff protectively.

"I said this is a robbery. I want the money you idiot," the pudgy faced man spluttered in rage.

"'Kay, jist take it easy; no need ta hurt nobody," Vin soothed. "Tha nice lady there is gonna open tha register fer yah. Now, it most likely will ding er somethin' so don't yah git spooked and shoot nobody alright?"

"A bell yeah," The gun man tightened his grip on the pistol.

"Ma'am, the register, iffen you can open the drawer fer him," Vin coaxed softly, hoping the frightened woman would obey him.

"I'm trying," the woman sobbed in terror.

"Sh, sh, take yah a deep breath and start over. Know yer scarit, so's tha rest of us," Vin crooned, trying to calm the group.

"Well, get this over with. I'm going to be late for work," an annoyed voice rose in protest. A neatly coiffed man tapped his foot impatiently while he glared at Vin and the robber.

_Well there's tha mandatory idjit. _Vin tensed as the robber's finger tightened on the trigger. _Chris is gonna be pissed. _He groaned. Ready to try to over power the man, Tanner was knocked off balance as the impatient customer attempted to leave the store.

A shot rang out, followed by a clang and a pained electronic chirp.

_Damn how'd he miss me at this distance? _Vin stared at the panicked gunman in disbelief. _Cain't be more'n three feet 'tween us. Least it wasn't no people he hit. _Tanner breathed in relief.

"The money," the robber squeaked in a shrill voice.

"I can't get to it! You killed the cash register," the frightened clerk answered.

"Well, I'm not putting up with this." The mandatory idiot pulled out his cell phone.

"Please, mister don' shoot at him," Vin coaxed. "Yah might miss an kill someone else. Yah kilt the cash register so they ain' no money. Just leave, alright?"

The telephone dropped to the floor with a clatter when the 'idiot' realized he personally might be in danger, not just inconvenienced.

"I . . . Everyone empty your pockets," the robber squeaked nervously.

_Please nothin' stupid people just empty yer pockets._ Tanner calmly removed his wallet and set it down on the counter along with his car keys, pocket knife, and all the change in his pockets before stepping away.

One by one, the other three customers emptied their pockets onto the counter. The thief riffled through the wallets and personal items in disgust. "The scruffy fella is the only one with cash?" he spluttered in disbelief, pulling the bills out of Vin's wallet.

_Don' that beat all. _Vin shook his head in disbelief.

"You run these cards through your machine and get me some money," the thief ordered the frightened clerk.

"Figure the money gits directly deposited to the store's account. It won't come out of the machine like one of them bankin' machines," Vin suggested calmly.

"Oh yeah, I know that." the thief grunted.

"You didn't give him all your stuff," the 'idiot' yelled in outrage. "He still has something in his back pocket," the man announced.

_Iffen you live through this Tanner kill that idjit soon as yah git a chance. _"It's jist mah ID, ain't worth nothin'," Vin soothed.

"Put it on the counter," the robber ordered sharply, stepping away from the counter and keeping the gun aimed directly at Vin's chest.

_Damn stupid way fer me ta git kilt. _"No problem," Vin calmly reached into his back pocket with his left hand and removed the ID, stepping toward the counter he stumbled and dropped it. While picking the ID up off the floor, Tanner managed to remove his Sig from a shoulder holster under his jacket with his right hand. Laying the ID on the counter, Vin stepped back and waited.

The thief rushed forwards and grabbed up the ID. Paling, his eyes locked with Tanner's. Vin brought his automatic up in a two-hand hold.

"Yah don' want ta be killin' nobody. Now lay tha gun down," Vin ordered softly.

"All I wanted was enough money to pay my parking tickets," the robber protested.

"Lay tha gun down," Vin ordered firmly.

A frightened gobble and the robber dove through the front door.

"AW Shit! Call tha cops," Vin ordered as he rushed out.

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A series of shots were fired as Tanner exited the store. A window shattered and there were several thumps as metal was struck by bullets.

A marked car cut the running Tanner off and a passenger door opened, knocking him into an icy puddle.

_Should'a jist stayed in bed. Ah Hell, this'n thinks he's Elliot Ness er somethin' Least tha other'n looks like he's steady. _Vin lay perfectly still as the first cop loomed over him weapon in hand. "Yah got tha wrong man. I was chasin' tha perp," Vin growled.

"Sure, you lowlife's come out of the projects to rob and steal, it's **always** someone else," the officer sniffed.

"They's another Sig, shoulder holster right side. Glock in a boot holster left side, Colt at the small of my back. A knife in the top of my right boot. Knife under my shirt collar, one sheathed to my right forearm, and one in my belt buckle. Ain't carryin' any needles er such," Vin announced calmly.

"Keep your arms extended and stand up," The second officer ordered. Tanner gingerly stood up, making sure not to make any sudden moves. "Step back until I tell you to stop," the officer said. Vin walked backward until he was thrown roughly down on the hood of the cruiser by the first officer. Vin's hands were jerked behind his back and cuffs were locked around his wrists.

"'Preciate it iffen yah'd call mah boss and tell him I'se gonna be late," Vin said.

"Shut up, Punk." Officer One thumped Vin's head against the car hood.

"Berkshire!" The older officer's voice snapped in rebuke. "The man is secure, calm down."

"He's an armed robber," Berkshire snorted.

"I was pursuing the robber. Mah name is Vin Tanner, I'm an ATF agent out of the Denver office," Vin spoke.

"Bull shit!" Berkshire huffed.

The older officer frowned and looked thoughtful.

"Peterson, you'd believe anything," Berkshire hissed as he began piling weapons on the hood of the police car.

"Who do you think you are, Rambo?" Berkshire slammed Vin down again as he searched him for more weapons.

"Officer Peterson, would you secure mah weapon?" Vin asked softly.

"Which one?" Peterson huffed, staring at the growing pile.

"The Sig that Dudley Doright left laying on tha sidewalk," Vin sighed.

"Crap!" Peterson hurried over and picked up the weapon before it could be carried off by person's unknown.

"You're going to prison for a long time, Punk," Berkshire growled.

"Danny, if you do that again, I'm writing you up," Peterson growled as he turned around in time to see Vin's head thump on the hood once more.

"No ID, he's our man," Berkshire said triumphantly.

"It's on tha counter in the donut shop, 'long wit' mah wallet and car keys," Vin sighed. _Definitely should'a stayed in bed. Buck's bed; it would have been nice and warm over at his place and it's not like he's usin' it. _

"In the car." Berkshire wrenched Vin's arms back as he pulled him by the cuff's roughly.

"Officer Peterson, I am officially informing you that your partner is upset and not handling himself according to regulations. I suggest that you call your duty officer and request a replacement at this time. I am following all of your directives. At no time have I attempted resistance in anyway. He is behaving with unnecessary force. I may have sustained injuries due to the blow from the car door," Vin braced himself and announced loudly so the bystanders could hear him. _Wouldn't ol' Ez be sa proud of me. _

Berkshire lifted brutally on the cuffs, bringing Vin to his toes. "I git one more bruise, officer Berkshire, I'm pressin' charges," Vin snarled.

"That's it, Danny. Back off and secure those weapons you left on the hood. Mister Tanner, would you please get in the car?" Peterson opened the back door of the police cruiser.

Vin nodded politely and lowered himself onto the seat. Squirming around, he got himself properly seated. Peterson reached across and snapped the seat belt into place.

"He's not a bad kid. He just needs a bit of seasoning. Are you really an ATF agent?" Peterson asked softly.

"Yeah, Team seven," Vin grunted.

"The Magnificent Seven?" Peterson asked faintly, color draining from his face. "Chris Larabee's team?"

"Yeah, and the cowboy ain' gonna be happy," Vin sighed, resting his head back against the seat.

"Aw hell, Danny, you idiot," Peterson groaned.

"Yah mind turning on some heat? I'se a bit cold." Tanner shivered.

"Hell, I didn't realize you were wet," Peterson huffed worriedly. "Danny, get a blanket out of the trunk while you're in there," he called to his partner.

"Damn good move with the car door," Vin admired faintly.

"I thought so," Peterson grinned. "We need to be looking at hospitals for the perp?"

"Nah, I never fired a shot. Once I's clear of the civilians he had his back to me," Vin answered.

7777777

Vin's teeth chattered as Larabee escorted him out of the eleventh precinct. Wrapped to his ears in the borrowed blanket, Tanner had settled into a sullen silence.

"Berkshire apologized, Pard." Chris struggled to suppress his amusement. _And it's only 8:30. _

//Know that. Rekin he got his eyes opened today. I think he may make a decent officer now.// Vin shuffled off to Larabee's truck.

"How'd you end up involved in a donut robbery anyway?" Chris demanded with a snigger. //You know I thought you really might have been the perp when Peterson called and said it was a donut robbery.//

"Ha, Ha, tha damn fool what robbed it was lookin' to git 'nough money ta pay his parkin' tickets," Vin huffed in disbelief.

Chris came to a dead stop and stared before hurrying to catch up. "Parking tickets?"

//Kin this wait 'till the gangs all tagether so's I don't have to repeat mahself?// "Any idea how bad my jeep is shot up?" Vin asked softly.

"No. I had it towed to Gimble's for you," Chris answered. //I can wait.//

"Hell of a day," Vin muttered, climbing into Larabee's truck.

"Let's get you back to the Federal Building and let you grab a hot shower," Chris suggested.

"And a cup of coffee, ain't had no coffee yet," Vin grumbled.

"And a cup of coffee," Chris agreed. Larabee looked worried when Vin's teeth chattered loudly. "Shower first." 

7777777

Federal Building

Denver, Colorado

Chris called the team office once he was out of the meeting with Travis and the other team leaders.

"He just got to the showers," Josiah answered before Chris even identified himself. "He still hasn't gotten upstairs yet."

"What do you mean he just got to the showers? It's been over two hours since I brought him in," Larabee growled.

"The donut snatcher didn't get Vin's cash, but he did take Vin's ID. It's taken this long to get new ID. He had to explain to Simpson in security how he lost his in the first place. That man types slower than Vin," Josiah reminded.

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"Vin, why didn't you change shoes?" Nathan demanded. "I can hear those boots squelch every step you take."

"I fear circumstances yesterday contributed directly to this unfortunate outcome," Ezra admitted. "Mister Tanner loaned me his spare sneakers when my own shoes were confiscated as evidence," Standish reminded. "I was rather rushed this morning and neglected to bring them with me. I am terribly sorry, Mister Tanner."

"Don't fret on it, Ez." Vin sank into his chair. "I'll just take mah boots off here in tha office."

"Still got to write up a report for Denver PD for this morning," Vin scowled at his monitor.

"Hey, it'll save time if I type it up while you tell us what happened," JD suggested.

"It started like this . . . . " Vin began.

". . . and that's how I got arrested fer robbin' tha donut shop. Rekin he jist helt on to mah ID when he run," Vin finished his story.

An awed silence filled the room for a long moment.

"Looks like we win the booby prize again this month," Chris finally muttered. Sighing, he looked up at the vulture effigy hung over their office door.

"Think your right, stud. Nobody else is going to top that story," Buck groaned.

"Didn't do it deliberate," Vin grunted.

"We know that," JD comforted.

"Six months straight," Josiah groaned.

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"Vin, Little Toby is one of your snitches isn't he?" Chris came out of his office with Ezra and asked softly.

"Yeah, not as reliable as some, but he's one of mine," Vin answered.

"Several of my informants have indicated a rather large movement of arms will be occurring within our jurisdiction eminently. They deny any real knowledge but suggest that your Mr. Toby has a more in-depth knowledge of the situation," Ezra informed the other men.

"It ain't noon yet. Stinky'll be at tha city park." Vin reached down and began pulling on his water logged boots.

"If you'll just tell us what he looks like and where he'll most likely be, Son. That way you don't get out in the cold with those wet boots," Josiah suggested.

"Little shit's slick, you ain't gonna see him," Vin warned. "Be back, I'se takin' Buck and Josiah wit' me."

"This guy's trouble?" Chris demanded sharply.

"Nah, but he'll hem and haw worse than Ez. Figure maybe those two'll keep him on track fer me." Vin smiled warmly. "Sides, I need a ride."

7777777

Vin cursed softly as Little Toby broke and ran as soon as he saw Tanner approaching. Vin waved Josiah to the left and Buck to the right and took off in pursuit. _Must be somethin' big the way he rabbited. _

_Now how did Vin find the guy in this crowd? _Buck wondered in disbelief as he ran to cut the snitch off.

"Dammit, Toby. Stop," Tanner yelled as he chased the snitch into an alley 12 blocks later.

Toby darted around a trash dumpster, climbed onto some boxes, then grabbed the edge of a fire escape, pulling himself up. Getting to his feet, he began to race up the stairs. Tanner was gaining ground as the cat-footed man leapt from the boxes to the fire escape and chased after his snitch. A panting Wilmington arrived in time to see the accident unfold. The fast moving Tanner's foot slipped off the ladder rung, his hands slipped and he tumbled backwards off the ladder and fell from about 20 feet.

"Aw hell, Junior!" Buck rushed forwards, images of the youngster's broken body filling his mind. Brushing past the dumpster, Wilmington looked around in bewilderment. No sign of Tanner. "Vin?" Buck called sharply.

"SHIT!" A furious Texas drawl was heard.

Peering over the edge of the dumpster, Buck grinned widely at the Texan. "Glad to see you're alive, Slick. Yah scared me."

"Toby knows what's going on," Vin groaned as he cautiously made his way over to the edge and climbed out of the mostly full dumpster.

"You hurt bad?" Buck asked in concern.

"Not bad; lots of cardboard boxes in there. Mostly just got the wind knocked out of me," Vin admitted.

"Damn you stink." Buck backed off, wrinkling his nose.

"Tell me about it," Vin snarled, stalking off.

Rounding the corner, Tanner came to a furious halt. Josiah was calmly 'escorting' Little Toby back to Vin.

"Brother Vin, you are soaked again. I suggest we return to the offices. You can change while Buck and I ask our fleet footed friend a few questions." Josiah placed himself protectively between Vin and the snitch.

"Vin needs a shower, a really good shower," Buck said while pointedly moving up wind.

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Vin settled gingerly into his desk chair. His hair hung in still damp curls. His freshly scrubbed boots sat drying by his desk.

"Mr. Toby has been a fount of information, a rather odorous fount," Ezra informed Tanner.

"Figured he knew somethin' when he rabbited that way," Vin muttered.

"What caused you to fall?" Buck demanded as he sat down on the corner of Vin's desk.

"Shit," Vin snapped. Bringing up the proper form on his computer screen, Tanner began to type.

_Best to back off and let the boy cool down a might. Today hasn't been a good day. _Buck wordlessly slipped off the desk and got back to work himself.

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"Who the hell is David Morgan Smith III and why's he fillin' a complaint against me?" Vin demanded.

"No idea Tanner, I was told to bring you down to Internal Affairs for an interview. That's all I know," George Knear answered softly. He was one of the few IA officers genuinely respected.

Sighing, Vin stood up and started for the door.

"Vin, don't you want some shoes first?" George asked with a grin.

"Boots is soaked. I kin talk barefoot," Vin huffed.

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"I don' know a David Morgan Smith tha **third**," Vin shook his head when Dillon Matthews the commanding officer of IA asked.

"He said you endangered the public by accosting an armed robber this morning . . ." Matthews spluttered and looked up from the report. "In a DONUT SHOP?"

"Aw hell," Vin moaned.

"You showed a lack of concern for the danger you put the civilians in. He complained to the mayor . . . OK this one looks like it's only ruffled feathers. What happened?" Matthews settled down in his chair and asked kindly.

Tanner once more told of the semi-aborted donut heist.

"Any idea why this man would lodge a protest?" Matthews asked.

"Rekin he's a might upset over pissin' hisself in that fancy suit." Tanner grinned faintly.

"He . . . lost control and . . . " Matthews hurriedly covered his mouth to cough. "I guess that might disturb a lawyer of his standing."

"AW Hell! Shoulda knowed he'd be some kind of shark," Vin scowled.

"I need you to write me a . . . detailed report of the incident in question, Agent Tanner." Matthews grinned. "A very detailed report. I'd suggest you ask Ezra Standish for assistance."

"How much trouble is this gonna cause?" Vin asked with a deep sigh.

"Well, we can't stop Mr. Smith from pressing charges. . . but if he wants to continue to pursue this, it becomes a matter of **public record **and you can ask for a review," Matthews explained.

"Yah mean I'd go before a review board and tell 'em how that idjit tried ta git me kilt?" Vin demanded in surprise.

"You'd be asked to give a detailed recounting of the incident." Matthews struggled to catch his breath. "I really don't see that happening."

"Rekin ole soggy britches ain't thought that far yet." Vin grinned. "Kin I go now?"

"Get out of here," Matthews laughed.

"Can't you even wear shoes, you ignorant hick," Dan Corbin snorted as Vin walked through the IA office.

"Matthews done scairt 'em off of me," Vin answered innocently as he wriggled his toes, all twelve of them, before sauntering out the door.

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Ezra gleefully typed up the more detailed report on the donut heist. "You haven't had the displeasure of ever having been cross-examined by David Morgan Smith the **THIRD** have you Mr. Tanner?" Ezra grinned.

"Nope." Vin sorted through a file before beginning on more of the dreaded paperwork.

"He is an ASS," Ezra sniggered while typing rapidly.

"Thanks Ez," Vin sighed.

"Mr. Tanner, I am throughly enjoying myself preparing this report." Ezra's dimples appeared and his eyes sparkled.

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"Vin." Chris walked out of his office carrying a report. "You might want to change this to you slipped due to the excrement on Tobias Wilson's shoes coating the ladder rungs, rather than you fell and I quote 'Ass over tea kettle 'cause of the shit that come off on the ladder from Little Toby's shoes,'" Chris said in a very controlled tone.

"It was shit, Larabee," Vin huffed. "Dawg shit."

Buck burst out laughing. "Leave it alone Chris. You know the folks in records get bored with all these things. It's not like that one is going to court or anything."

7777777

Vin stared silently at his computer monitor, rubbing his shoulder as Chris' words registered. Angry curses filled the air from the other agents as they furiously raged over the situation.

"You mean to tell me that Poplov is walking away a free man because some idiot in the prosecutor's office decided not to prosecute?" Buck raged.

"Prosecution claims there isn't enough evidence to convict," Larabee gritted.

"What do they mean by that? Everything we gave them was admissible in court. Poplov had his rights read to him three times and then again in Russian by Ez," JD protested.

"Mr. Tanner also informed Poplov of his rights in Russian," Ezra growled.

"Russian?" Nathan asked in surprise.

"Mr. Tanner has a St. Petersburg accent. I won't be able to infiltrate Mr. Poplov's company again," Ezra warned.

"It'll have to be another team, we're compromised," Chris growled.

"He's not walking a way. The prosecution plea bargained the gun charges away to get Poplov to plead guilty on the murder charge."

"Twenty years for murder in the first degree. Half off for good behavior. Take off all the time he's fought going to trial. Those months in jail will count against his sentence. Maybe a bit of shock probation. I figure he'll serve 5 to 7 for cold blooded murder," Josiah figured bitterly.

"We need ta make sure tha repeat offender paperwork is filled," Vin growled softly.

"Repeat offender won't float Vin. It's three strikes and your out and Poplov only has two felony charges," Chris responded.

"Andre Smirnoff, armed robbery, Trenton, New Jersey, June 11, 1989. The clerk was shot but recovered from the injuries," Vin said quietly.

"Poplov and Smirnoff are the same man?" Buck demanded.

"Yeah."

"Why, didn't that show up on his records?" JD demanded, scowling at his computer.

"Cause his finger prints never got put in the system," Vin sighed. "Rekin somebody was bought off er got lazy. I got a copy of the report."

"That's going to upset Mr. Poplov," Ezra smiled.

"Won't work iffen tha prosecutor won't file. I'm bettin' he won't." Vin rubbed his shoulder once more. "No charges fer shootin' arrestin' officers either?"

"No, the prosecutor has him dead to rights on the murder charge, so the rest are . . . unnecessary," Chris snarled.

Tanner silently worked at his desk the rest of the afternoon.

"I picked this up earlier for you." Nathan sat a bag from a local drugstore down on Vin's desk and moved away.

Vin opened the bag and shook his head. Pulling out a pair of fuzzy house shoes, Tanner admired the claws protruding from the toes of the 'bear paws'. "Thanks Nate." Vin smiled faintly, putting the warm slippers on.

"There's more." Nathan's lips twitched.

Vin's eyes widened as he pulled a small box out of the bag.

"Well it has been one of those days," Josiah winced.

"A thermometer?" JD questioned.

"A RECTAL thermometer," Buck sniggered.

"I want you to settle down and relax. Open the box and carefully place that thermometer on your desk. Now don't chip it or damage it in any way," Nathan directed.

"Nate, I ain't relaxing anywhere's close ta that thing," Vin spluttered.

"Trust me," Nathan coaxed.

Vin hesitantly removed the Johnson & Johnson thermometer and set it on his blotter, staring at it in distaste.

"Now pull out the paperwork and carefully read it. I know you don't feel like reading anything, but pay particular attention to the warranty," Nathan urged.

Tanner grumbled but began to read. He stopped and went back to a section and reread it. Carefully, he sat the paperwork on the desk. "I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job," Vin chanted. "I could work fer Johnson & Johnson in quality control."

"Better now?" Nathan grinned.

"Thanks Nate," Vin sniggered. "Anyone want some coffee?" Vin asked, hopping to his feet and sauntered to the break room, claws rattling as he went.

Buck snatched up the pamphlet and began to read. Coming to the section of interest, he read aloud. "Every Rectal Thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested."

"I love mah job," Ezra said in a heartfelt manner.

"Amen," Josiah chortled.


End file.
